


tumblr shorts

by sherrisscribbles (annella)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:05:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6984412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annella/pseuds/sherrisscribbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the short prompted fics I post to Tumblr but not to Ao3, now gathered together in one place. Each piece is stand-alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Reacting to the other one crying about something.
> 
> Spoilers for the Mass Effect series

Dorian was busy on his laptop typing up his latest bit of research when he heard a muffled sniffling from the other side of the room. It was enough to break through his headphones, and he turned to see what was going on.

Cullen was sitting at his computer, his back to Dorian, and as Dorian watched, he heard another muffled sniffle before Cullen reached up to wipe his face.

 _Shit_. Had Cullen got some bad news? He’d mentioned an email from his sister earlier, and a thousand different possibilities sprung to mind. Dorian quickly got up and walked across the room to see what was going on.

He was surprised to see that Cullen was playing a video game – the same one he’d been playing for what seemed like the past month. Sometimes he tried to tell Dorian about it - _it’s amazing, the story is incredible, the characters are just so awesome!_ \- but Dorian’s interest had been mild at best.

“Cullen?” Cullen’s shoulders were shaking a little, his hands covering his face. Dorian wrapped his arms around him from behind, hugging him tightly. Maybe it had been a text message with bad news. “Cullen, what’s wrong?”

“Mordin died,” Cullen mumbled through his cupped hands. “I did everything right, I made all the moral choices, I’m a fucking _hero_ , and Mordin died!” He wiped his face and twisted around to glare at Dorian, daring him to say something about the tears. “I have to do the quest again… there has to be a way to save him!”

Dorian, slightly taken aback, let Cullen go with a pat on the shoulder and padded back to his own laptop to do a quick search. The results were… _unpleasant_.

“Uh, Cullen?”

“What?”

Dorian cleared his throat. “It seems that if you let Wrex die in the first game, Mordin survives in the third game.”

There was thoughtful silence from the other side of the room. “You know what?” Cullen said savagely, “fuck this game. Can we watch Netflix?”

“Of course,” Dorian said. He couldn’t help smiling widely as they moved to the couch; Cullen had said _fuck this game_ at least three times in the past few days, and he would be back into it the next evening. Dorian even managed not to say anything about the crying, and ruffled a hand through Cullen’s hair when he burrowed his face into Dorian’s tshirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My tumblr](http://sherrisscribbles.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Excuse me, but I need someone else’s opinion on this.”

Cullen did _not_ want to come out of the wardrobe. The shirt Dorian had thrown at him was _way_ too snug, and he nervously pulled it down over his stomach. The sleeves were too tight as well, although he’d managed to roll them up halfway.

The jeans were even worse. He looked around, checking his ass in Dorian’s intricate setup of mirrors, and sighed. The line of the briefs he was wearing was clearly visible under the tight fabric, but there was no way he was taking them off.

“Come on!” Dorian called from the bedroom. “We have to go!”

“No!” Cullen yelped. Maker, the buttons of the shirt were straining over his chest. This was at least two sizes too small, if not three.

“I’m coming in!”

“No!” Cullen turned, about to unbutton the shirt, when the door opened.

“Maker,” Dorian breathed, “I was right.”

“Right about what, exactly?” Cullen asked peevishly. “I can barely _breathe_ in these jeans, and this shirt doesn’t hide a thing.”

“Exactly.” Dorian’s eyes raked up and down Cullen’s body, and he blushed, tugging the shirt down again.

“Dorian?”

“Hold it.” He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out, and before Cullen could stop him, he’d taken a photo. “Excuse me, but I need someone else’s opinion on this.”

“No!” Cullen grabbed for the phone, but the damned trousers were so tight his range of movement was limited. He chased Dorian into their bedroom and tackled him onto the bed, Dorian laughing wildly.

“Too late!” Dorian cried.

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen groaned, burying his face in Dorian’s chest. “Who did you send that to?”

The question was answered moments later when Dorian’s phone pinged, and Cullen peeked at the screen to see a reply from Felix.

_well damn, you’re gonna be fighting them off with sticks tonight man_

“Felix thinks you look good,” Dorian pointed out.

“Still not wearing this outfit,” Cullen grumbled. Dorian’s phone pinged again, another message from Felix.

_carver says cullen looks hot and is he single cos damn. (i’m gonna smack him.)_

“There you have it,” Dorian said. “Three out of four of us agree you should wear this outfit tonight.”

“You just want to peel these jeans off me later on,” Cullen said. He was about to cave, he knew it.

“I knew you weren’t a fool, _amatus_. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My tumblr](http://sherrisscribbles.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Protective Dorian would be adorable. Like Cullen is a warrior and used to being the protector right? Then here comes this mage, making sure he eats his dinner and gets his rest when he's working too much. Then out in the field he's constantly annoyed about Cullen rushing in without backup. So Dorian makes sure he's always the one that follows Cullen into battle. :3"

Cullen was a seasoned warrior. He’d seen his fair share of battles, and he had the scars to prove it. He didn’t rise through the ranks without justification – soldiers without the requisite skills at staying alive while making enemies dead never got very far.

It was strange, now, to have someone _fuss_ over him so.

“Cullen! What happened?” Dorian’s head poked up through the trapdoor into his bedroom, a look of horror in his eyes when he saw Cullen carefully washing the scrape on his side.

“Nothing,” he said. “I was running drills. It’s just a scratch.”

“That’s not a scratch!” Dorian scrambled up the rest of the way and was at Cullen’s side in a flash, murmuring a quiet spell and placing his palm over the graze.

“Dorian!” Cullen jerked away, but too late – the pain was gone, and the graze looked as if it was three days old. “You didn’t have to do that,” he muttered. “It would have healed on its own. Why waste your mana?”

“Cullen,” Dorian said firmly, taking Cullen’s face in his hands, “you are going to have to accept that I am going to _fret_ about you.”

“Speak for yourself!” Cullen pulled his tunic back on, glancing over at Dorian. “Running around with Trevelyan, having Maker knows what thrown at you.”

“I, amatus, have never been injured in the field beyond slipping in the mud and losing some of my dignity,” Dorian sniffed.

Cullen chuckled, remembering the time Dorian came back to Skyhold with most of his silk and samite armor stained with mud. He’d been grousing about Ferelden being nothing but a giant pit of mud, but hadn’t objected to Cullen washing his hair as he soaked the mud off in the bath later that night.

“Come on,” Dorian said, taking Cullen by the arm and tugging him gently towards the ladder, “I could use a drink. And _you_ need to eat your dinner.”

“Dorian–”

“Don’t start. I know how often you eat. Or _don’t_ eat.” He glared darkly at Cullen, who gave in almost immediately.

~~~

Cullen had never actually been in the field with Dorian before. He’d seen him training with the other mages, flashing twirls of his staff giving off great gouts of flame and ice, but he had never seen him fight real enemies.

The Shrine of Dumat was filled to bursting with Red Templars, and Cullen wished they’re brought the entire Inquisition army, not just himself, Trevelyan, and three of her buddies.

Not that The Iron Bull, Dorian, and Varric were anything less than a force to be reckoned with. In fact, as they cut their way through the group near the gates, Cullen was impressed at how well they all worked together. Dorian was a dream to watch, almost dancing as he swept his staff around, firing spells off and casting barriers with almost the same breath.

He perhaps should not have gotten so distracted watching his lover. Cullen was too late to see the blade of a shadow, and caught a nasty blow across his torso.

“No!” Dorian cried out, and Cullen, startled back into action, removed the creature’s head in one swing of his sword. It was the last of them, for now, and he put a hand to his chest, wincing at the bruise from the thing’s arm.

“Cullen! Are you alright?” Dorian was at his side immediately, pushing away layers of armor and fabric to see what had happened.

“I’m fine,” Cullen tried to reassure him, but Dorian was not having it. He insisted they take cover behind the gates, and forced Cullen to take off his breastplate so Dorian could examine the wound.

“Just a scratch, hmm?” Dorian muttered, fishing around his robes for a potion which he forced down Cullen’s throat. The elfroot burned all the way, making him gasp, and he felt Dorian’s hand cool on his chest where his armor had dented and bruised him.

“You don’t need to–”

“Hush.” Dorian frowned, murmuring that same healing spell. “There. You shouldn’t bruise now.”

“Dorian–” Cullen was feeling exasperated.

“Can you two do this later?” Trevelyan interrupted, a smile on her face. “Not that I want to ruin a romantic moment, but we _do_ have other things to do here.”

~~~

Cullen was in a foul mood by the time they arrived back at Skyhold. Apart from losing Samson, Maddox dying, and the entire journey feeling like a waste of time, he was frustrated by Dorian’s constant attempts to keep him safe. They had encountered a group of bandits on the road on the way back, and Dorian spent so much time casting barriers on Cullen and watching his back that Trevelyan ended up with a concussion.

It was a relief to climb the ladder to his bedroom and strip his armor off. Cullen sighed as he removed each piece, and was stretching his sore muscles when Dorian showed up.

“I’m sorry, amatus,” he said quietly, sitting on the bed. “I can’t help it. I see you in danger and I can’t _not_ do something.”

“I understand,” Cullen said, filling the basin with water from the pitcher and starting to wash the sweat from his tired body. “Do you know why I got wounded in the first place, back at the shrine?”

Dorian shook his head. “I thought the thing snuck up on you.”

“Well, it did,” Cullen allowed, “but it wouldn’t have been so easy for it if I hadn’t been watching you. Making sure you weren’t in danger.”

Dorian laughed weakly. “Quite the pair we are, aren’t we? Maker, I hope this war is over soon,” he said quietly. Cullen tossed the washcloth aside and went to sit next to Dorian on the bed, and Dorian leaned in, his head on Cullen’s shoulder.

“I know, love,” Cullen replied, stroking Dorian’s hair. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr](http://sherrisscribbles.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "ok but what about Cullen really not being the greatest in bed because of his insecurity, lack of experience, etc, etc. And Dorian really noticing that his past lovers were a lot better than him, but it all seems like it doesn't matter much, because unlike the others, Cullen really seems to love him and it's showing in his every action, every clumsy attempt to pleasure him, every look he gives him?"

In the end, it’s pretty underwhelming.

Two months he and Cullen have been… _together_. Two months of kissing, of stealing moments when neither of them was busy or away from Skyhold on missions. Two months of Dorian slipping into Cullen’s office after the late watch has passed and tugging him close for scorching kisses against the heavy desk in his office.

Two months of _no sex_. Dorian is surprisingly fine with this – he’s never had anything like this before, a man who wants to know him and wants to be known _by_ him, who is more interested in twining his fingers around Dorian’s while they play chess than pushing him into a closet for a quick fuck.

So Dorian has to admit that he’s been hoping for a magical night together when it finally happens. Instead he gets what he imagines a mabari might be like to have around the place – large, overzealous, excited and, in the end, _heavy_.

“Maker, I’m so sorry,” Cullen breathes into his neck, still panting after coming all over Dorian’s hip. Dorian lies there feeling slightly stunned. He’s pretty sure it has been approximately five minutes since they’d managed to get their clothes off, and now both he and Cullen are done without the benefit of mouths or asses to help them along.

He’s probably had worse sex. Maker, he’s not even sure if this counts as sex. Rubbing one out against your lover’s hip and the side of his hand is something young men do, not fully grown adults.

“Dorian?” Cullen’s voice is quiet. “I didn’t – I mean I –” He clears his throat. “Maybe we can try again in the morning? Or tomorrow night?”

Dorian opens his eyes and looks at Cullen, whose face is a picture of misery. _He’s going to stay_.

“That would be wonderful,” Dorian replies, smiling so widely his face aches, and he pulls Cullen in for a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My tumblr](http://sherrisscribbles.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'd offer you breakfast, but I think I'm too sore to move."

It had been such a good night.

Things had started extremely well, with Cullen staying over at Dorian’s place this time. They had takeout on the couch and watched Star Trek – Cullen had such a crush on Riker, and it would have been amusing if Dorian hadn’t secretly felt the same – and they’d ended up having sex on the floor.

Pretty good sex, all told. Dorian was pretty sure he had some carpet burn on his ass cheeks, but it had been worth it. They’d staggered off to bed just after midnight and Cullen had promptly fallen asleep. Dorian watched him snore for a while, a smile on his face and wondering how he’d managed to get so lucky to have this man in his bed and his life.

He was rudely awakened at some god-awful hour when something hit the side of his face.

“Fuck! Ow! What? What’s going on?” His heart pounding from the abrupt awakening, he reached over to turn on the bedside light. His cheek was aching from the blow and he pressed the heel of his hand to it, wincing.

Cullen was thrashing, moaning, and Dorian realised the blow had been from one of Cullen’s _fists._

Fuck. He remembered the first night they’d spent together a week ago, when Cullen had warned him about the nightmares. What had he told him to do? Wake him carefully, and avoid the fists.

Dorian edged his way down the bed until he reached Cullen’s feet, and gently shook one. 

“Cullen,” he said softly, “wake up. Please.”

“No! Get away!” Cullen blurted out, his words slurred and half-formed. Dorian winced and shook his foot again, harder. He earned a kick in the side from Cullen’s other foot, but it didn’t have nearly the same power behind it as his fists. Cullen grunted and mumbled and finally, _finally_ , his eyes opened and he blinked at Dorian.

“Dorian?” he said softly. “Did I – oh god, I’m so sorry.”

“I’ll be fine,” Dorian said, touching his cheek and hissing through his teeth. “Bit of a bruise, but I’ve had worse.”

“I’m sorry,” Cullen said again, looking down and clenching his fists. “I’ll go sleep on the couch if you wanted to get a few more hours of sleep.”

“Nonsense,” Dorian said, and yawned. He glanced at the clock and was surprised to see it was actually morning. “If we go back to sleep now, I’ll never get up in time for work.”

“Do you want some ice for that?” Cullen asked. He looked as though he was about to burst into tears, and Dorian took pity. It wasn’t his fault he had such awful nightmares.

“In a minute,” Dorian replied, crawling back up the bed so he could slide under the covers and wrap his arms around Cullen. “But I think you can make breakfast this morning; I’m a bit too sore.”

Cullen chuckled quietly. “Fair enough. But I do plan on making you say that again one day, for _very_ different reasons.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My tumblr](http://sherrisscribbles.tumblr.com)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We were so eager we couldn’t even get all of our clothes off, Cullrian (¬‿¬) "

It's a terribly long way from the tavern to Cullen's office.

Two -- two! -- flights of stairs, then navigating through the derelict room at the top of the tavern, trying not to trip over the rotted planks of wood and vines growing everywhere. Push through the door, avoid the guards -- Cullen grabs Dorian around the waist and pulls him into the darkness behind a crenelation as a guard passes, unaware of their presence.

"Shh," he hisses in Dorian's ear, and Dorian stifles a drunken giggle, stuffing his fist in his mouth as Cullen takes advantage of his proximity and nibbles gently on Dorian's earlobe.

The guard has gone, but they're still there. Cullen mumbles something incomprehensible and Dorian buries his face in the furry pauldrons in front of him as Cullen's hands wander down his back, over his ass, pulling him close.

Scorching kisses, deep and desperate as they kiss and pull away to gasp for breath before kissing again. Dorian always feels like he could drown in Cullen's kisses and die happy; the Commander kisses him like no one ever has before.

Like he _means_ it. Like there's nothing more he wants than to kiss Dorian for the rest of his life. Like there is nothing and no one, no war, no demons, no Corypheus, only Dorian.

It's cold on the battlements but Dorian feels like he's about to burst into flame, the desire and love and sheer _lust_ coursing through his veins like lightning. He realises, dimly, that they need to move on, that Cullen's office is close and they really shouldn't be doing this out here.

Cullen shifts his hips and lets out a groan. Dorian's head is spinning and he can't help but thrust his hips against Cullen's, whimpering softly at the feel of Cullen's erection pressing against his own. _Maker_. They're not going to make it.

Cullen seems to realise the same thing and he takes a step back, trying to catch his breath. Dorian lets out a whine at the sudden loss of contact and Cullen kisses him again, quickly, before grabbing his hand and dragging him the short distance remaining to the privacy of his office.

The door slams closed as Dorian is shoved up against it, blessed privacy at last, and Cullen _growls_ as he claims Dorian's mouth again, kissing him in desperation.

"Upstairs?" Dorian asks between kisses. Cullen shakes his head.

"Here," he says firmly, sliding his hand over the front of Dorian's breeches and squeezing gently. Dorian moans and pushes his hips forwards and Cullen chuckles, squeezing again before deftly tugging the laces free and slipping his hand inside.

Cullen's right, they'd never make it upstairs. Dorian's already close to the edge and he melts into Cullen's arms as that warm, firm hand strokes his cock. "Oh, fuck," he slurs, bucking his hips.

"Maybe later," Cullen murmurs, amused, and Dorian needs to wipe that smirk off his lover's face. He manages to take control of his limbs and unbuckles Cullen's belt, but his concentration is destroyed when Cullen twists his hand a little in the way that he likes and Dorian's eyes roll back in his head.

"Let me--" Dorian gasps, forcing himself to grab Cullen's trousers and pull them down over his hips. They catch on his cock and Dorian grunts, frustrated, while Cullen laughs softly in his ear and keeps stroking him.

"Not helping!" Dorian says, and Cullen just laughs again. "Wasn't planning to," he replies. He slides a thumb over the head of Dorian's cock, collecting the liquid beading there, and Dorian _finally_ manages to free Cullen's cock from the confines of his tight trousers.

"Oh," Cullen says quietly, his voice catching as Dorian pulls their hips together. The heat of skin on skin is intense, and Dorian grins wickedly.

There's nothing holding him back now, and he succumbs to Cullen's hand stroking him, his mouth kissing him, and although he tries to give as good as he gets, he's too far gone. He bites off a groan and kisses Cullen deeply, his entire body jerking as heat floods him and he comes into Cullen's hand.

"Maker," Cullen breathes, stroking Dorian through the aftermath. Dorian grunts and pushes Cullen's hand away from his oversensitive cock before resuming stroking Cullen. It's decadent and filthy, using his own come as lubricant, and Cullen looks down between their bodies with wide eyes and flushed cheeks as Dorian jerks him off.

It's over far too quickly; Cullen's eyes slide closed and he bites off curses as he comes hard. Dorian's cock twitches slightly at the sight, as if it wants to come again, and Dorian chuckles quietly at the very idea. Cullen collapses into his arms, uncaring of the mess between them, and they kiss again. More gentle this time, a loving embrace and soft kisses of sated contentment.

They stay leaning against the door for a few minutes, neither of them willing to part from the other, before Cullen clears his throat.

"I've a bath upstairs, and water waiting to be heated."

"Thank the Maker," Dorian groans, "I think I'm actually stuck to you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My tumblr](http://sherrisscribbles.tumblr.com)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “N-no, I wasn’t… crying, I just h-had something in my eye is all…”

Dorian's in his office when Cullen returns from his meeting with the Templar Commander in Minrathous. For once he feels like he's achieved something, and is hoping to start training the Templars within the week on how to use spells without resorting to heavy use of lyrium.

He throws open the door to the office, looking forward to seeing his husband again, and is taken aback to see Dorian hurriedly stand up and shove something inside his robes. He doesn't look at Cullen, instead turning towards the window.

"That was quick!" Dorian says, and Cullen frowns. Dorian stands stiffly, crossing then uncrossing his arms, and Cullen can hear him taking slow, deep breaths.

"Love, what's wrong?" he asks, crossing the room quickly and standing behind Dorian. He slides his arms around his husband's waist and settles his chin on his shoulder. "Are -- are you _crying_? What happened? What is it?"

"Shut up, I'm not _crying_ ," Dorian snaps. "Something in my eye, that's all."

"Dorian--"

"I'm _fine_." He's stiff in Cullen's arms, and as he pulls away, a wrinkled piece of paper falls from his robes. Cullen grabs it before it hits the floor and is about to hand it to Dorian without looking when he catches a glimpse of the signature.

"Is this--"

"Give it back!" Dorian makes a grab for it, but Cullen takes a closer look.

"It is! This is the letter I wrote you two years ago!" It's faded and the edges are torn, the entire thing looks like it will soon fall to pieces along the fold lines. Clearly, it's been read and re-read a thousand times over, and Cullen swallows around the sudden drop of his stomach.

"Amatus--" Dorian starts, then stops. He finally turns to face Cullen, his cheeks and ears dark with a blush.

"You received it? And you've kept it all this time?" Cullen can still make out the words, the hopelessly flowerly declaration of love he had scribbled down after Dorian left Skyhold for the last time. He'd been missing him terribly and had written the letter late one night, adding it to the pile of outgoing correspondence and waking up too late the next morning to hide it from the runner who picked up his letters every day.

Dorian has never mentioned it before, and Cullen has until now vaguely hoped his lover hadn't received it, hadn't read the painfully intense words spurred on by loneliness and fortified by brandy.

"Dorian," Cullen begins, but Dorian shushes him with a finger on his mouth.

"Of course I kept it," Dorian says quietly, his eyes still shining. "An unconditional declaration of love? How could I do anything else?"

Cullen's heart swells until he feels like it must burst from his chest. Feeling somewhat overcome, he finds himself incapable of words, instead pulling Dorian in for another hug. This time, Dorian doesn't resist; he buries his face in Cullen's shoulder, whispering what Cullen has learned are endearments in Tevene.

"I should write to you more often," he says, and Dorian hums agreement.

"Next time, write me a naughty letter," Dorian replies. The words are muffled, but Cullen can feel the curve of his mouth as he smiles, and he laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr](http://sherrisscribbles.tumblr.com)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: tying the other up

"Tell me if you get uncomfortable," Dorian says as he buckles the cuff holding Cullen's ankle in place. His other ankle is already tied, as are his hands, and he tests the bonds carefully, tugging to see how much give he has.

It's just enough; enough to pull his knees up a little but not enough to bring his legs together. He feels exposed, more so than he's ever been before, and he bites his lip at the torrent of desire that washes through him.

The room is almost too warm; even without Dorian's heating runes, his room is much better insulated than Cullen's loft, and for once he's glad of it. He wants this, he _wants_ to be splayed out on the bed for Dorian to do with as he wishes, his legs spread wide and his entire body in full view.

"Incredible," Dorian murmurs, kneeling on the bed between Cullen's legs. He doesn't touch him, not yet, but Cullen can feel the weight of his gaze almost like a caress, and he moans as his cock fills out.

He twists in his bonds, knowing that he can't free himself, _loving_ that no matter how hard he struggles he will be here until Dorian unbuckles the cuffs. Dorian's eyes darken as Cullen thrashes, trying to close his legs and failing. He's blushing, embarrassed and ashamed and so desperate for this he almost hurts with it.

"Dorian--" Cullen pants, not even knowing exactly what he wants.

"Hmm?" Dorian's hum is almost absent, his gaze devouring Cullen as he reaches down to stroke himself. Cullen's eyes fix on that movement, watching Dorian's cock slide in and out of his fist, and he groans again, shifting his hips. His cock is fully hard now, resting against his stomach, and he bites his lip in anticipation when Dorian leans over him.

He stops, his mouth barely an inch from Cullen's erection, and Cullen almost sobs. He's constantly in motion, unable to stop his limbs from writhing, and he lets out a shout when Dorian slides his tongue from the base of his cock to the head.

" _Maker_ ," Cullen breathes, pulling his legs up as far as he can, just enough to embrace Dorian between his thighs.

"Do you want me to tighten them?" Dorian asks, placing a hand on Cullen's ankle. "I can stop you from being able to move at all."

"No!" Cullen almost yelps. "No, I -- I like being able to move a bit." He shudders inwardly at being completely immobilised; too many memories of Kinloch. At least if he can move, there is that illusion of control.

"You look so good like this," Dorian says, planting a wet kiss on the head of Cullen's dick. "I like seeing you writhe."

Cullen moans, lifting his hips, and Dorian finally takes pity. He slides his mouth down around Cullen's erection, suckling gently as Cullen curses under his breath. He can't take his eyes off Dorian, watching his lover slide that beautiful mouth down over his cock.

He wants more, though; he wants one thing in particular. It's hard to concentrate with all that wet heat surrounding him, sucking him, but he gasps out, "Stop!" as he feels his orgasm approaching.

"Something wrong, amatus?" Dorian stops immediately and leans over Cullen, his face full of concern.

"No, I just--" Cullen screws up his face, a helpless blush heating his cheeks. "I want--"

"What is it?" Dorian nuzzles him, kissing his neck, and it's easier for Cullen to say it without having to look Dorian in the face.

"Ride me?" he asks softly. Dorian's breath hitches and suddenly Cullen is being kissed, firmly and with a hint of desperation.

"My pleasure," Dorian murmurs, reaching for the oil.

 

It's just as incredible as Cullen imagined -- all he can do is watch helplessly as Dorian oils himself up and slides down onto Cullen's cock. His arms twist again in their bindings, desperate to reach out and touch Dorian, pull him close, but he _can't_.

"Maker," Dorian whines as he settles himself. His cock is leaking, droplets of liquid beading at the head and slipping down his shaft as he starts to move, and Cullen can't hold back a groan.

"Touch yourself," he blurts out, his _need_ trumping any shyness. Dorian smiles down at him and takes himself in hand, slicking himself up with his own precome as he shifts his hips and fucks himself on Cullen's dick.

"Cullen," Dorian gasps as the heat in the room intensifies. They're both sweating, panting, and the temperature keeps increasing until Cullen can barely breathe.

"Hot," he forces out between gritted teeth. Dorian nods, his eyes slipping closed as his head falls back. He's moving faster now, driving Cullen towards orgasm, and Cullen stops caring about the heat in the room as his entire body tenses up and he comes.

By the sounds he's making, Dorian is close as well. Steam starts wisping off him, drying the sweat, and Cullen's about to say something in concern when Dorian comes as well, spurting over Cullen's chest and stomach. It's hot, hotter than normal, the pulses of liquid feeling like they're searing Cullen's skin.

The heat in the room subsides a little as Dorian relaxes, leaning down and curling up on top of Cullen.

"That was hot," Cullen says, and Dorian nods.

"Very," he agrees, seemingly happy not to move for a while.

"No," Cullen says, coughing a little, "it's really _hot_ in here, can you open a window?"

Dorian looks at him, blinking in slow confusion for a moment before he realises. "Oh! Maker's breath, I haven't done that since I was in my teens." Clearly embarrassed, he waves a hand at the high windows and the heat quickly dissipates.

"That used to happen often, did it?" Cullen asks a few minutes later. He's been freed of his bindings and after a quick clean up, he and Dorian are curled up together on the bed.

Dorian flushes dark. "Only if it's really intense," he mutters, still sounding embarrassed. He glances up at Cullen and smacks him lightly on the chest. "And you can stop grinning!"

"Never," Cullen replies, and Dorian sighs.

"I'm never going to hear the end of this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr](http://sherrisscribbles.tumblr.com)


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